Footloose in SF?

Edward Jackson is a San Francisco artistic treasure. He’s a tap dancer of extraordinary power, speed and grace, a magical and mesmerizing performer. For a decade, he starred at the Powell St. cable car turnaround. It’s ironic that in a city trying to establish itself as a world class tap town, Mr. Jackson might be about to lose his stage.

In his early years, I once watched Edward seem to take wing off the battered plywood square he uses on the sidewalk to land on the lid of one of those tall (when they were flat) trash bins without dropping a beat. I swear my jaw was wide open like a Neanderthal watching someone else creating fire for the first time.

The Chronicle’s Ed Guthmann wrote about Mr. Jackson a fewtimes, detailing his spare life, his struggle to follow his craft and his passion while also actually making a meager living. You could always hear regular fans and visitors talking about how this guy, wiry as an Olympian and gleaming with sweat, ought to be in front of formally paying audiences.

In early ’07 the dancer left SF for Australia after a romance ended and the city became less friendly to street artists.

This week, he came back to Powell and Market with his board, his iPod, his car battery-driven music amplifier, some worn-out tap shoes and that transcendent talent. A group of beat police officers who didn’t necessarily remember him started pointing out that he was violating one or umpteen city codes and ordinances, new and old. You’d think he was an aggressive panhandler or one of the city’s record-breaking homicide perps.

Lots of high-end businesses had moved in during his absence and didn’t seem to appreciate his musical street act. Union Square Business Improvement District chief Leigh Ann Baughmansays “The tourists love Edward, and he’s a great tap dancer and an asset to the community…But he can’t occupy public space with chairs and tables and things like that.” She said she’d miss him when he left town “but having the music too loud won’t be missed.”

But his dazzling energy and hybrid tap style were missed by tourists and regular passers-by like me. So it was distressing to get a call and a visit from him, where he told me about being cited by the cops and worrying that he’d have to stop dancing in the street.

Yesterday morning I walked up to the Plaza with my idiot-tech Flip video camera and a mission.

I found Edward talking with Officer Lee Dahlberg from Southern Station. Officer Dahlberg, the guy you’d cast in your movie as a good beat cop, has been on the job for 20 years and knew Edward from before. They respect each other. Officer Dahlberg’s wife teaches tap. When the newbie policemen were getting on Edward’s case a few days earlier, “I came out here to quell the whole thing,” Officer Dahlberg said.

Rules are still rules, the officer said. “I just tell him what the deal is, let him do this for a little while and maybe move to another spot (the Wharf and other tourist places don’t all have these restrictions).” But this policeman is a public servant who appreciates public art. “We’re trying to work it out,” he said as he walked away.

So right now there’s a stand-off.

Edward needs about $500 to buy a smaller amp that would be in compliance with local regulations. But there may be other issues that get in between him and his dancing. (He’s got a business license but that may not let you set up your business anywhere you want. He was told his board is too big and his collection box too conspicuous.) On a higher level, Officer Dahlberg pointed out that the SF Arts Commission ought to be dealing with street artists, not the SFPD. “We shouldn’t have to regulate so harshly these kinds of things,” he said.

The Commission says they don’t have the time or people for that. But if you can have giant arrows and feet and hearts all over the place, it seems criminal that Edward Jackson can’t burn the place up with his natty fedora and blazing feet.

Check out my chat with Edward and the Officer above, and the sorcery of Mr. Jackson’s dancing here.